


after the world ends

by MMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMonster/pseuds/MMonster
Summary: If we can't protect this world, those we love... We will avenge them.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story set post Infinity War and the Agent's of SHIELD season 5 finale. Be aware of spoilers.
> 
> Pretty much, I just really want to know what happens. This is my take on it.
> 
> Also
> 
> WARNING: Despite how it starts, Philinda will not be the endgame of this story.

Phillip Coulson never thought his death would be a peaceful one. Sure, one could take into consideration that Phil was a paper pusher for most of his life; either hiding behind a desk or patiently siting through meetings. Violent, sudden deaths are for field agents, not for unassuming average types like himself. Until reasonably recently, that was all he had been: a normal guy, just trying to do his very best despite knowing how little difference it would probably make. Any difference at all would have been enough to make him content.

But, then, Phil did die. Suddenly and violently. Death is more often than not the unfortunate ending of a SHIELD field agent's career. For Phil, in a strange but interesting reversal, a violent death was the true beginning of his life in the field. Fitting that, keeping in track with his opposition tendencies, his career as a field agent would end with a peaceful death, a perfectly congruously incongruous finale. On a beautiful beach, after parasailing with the woman he loved and getting to say goodbye to all of those who mattered to him. Despite the pang of homesickness he felt, not for the place those people were at right now, but for them – they were his home – Phil was happy. At peace. Not ready _per se_ , but accepting.

“You have that far away look.” May commented as she left the shower, the wet strands of her dark hair gleaming under the soft light of the hotel room. She smelled like soap and toothpaste. Phil couldn't resist kissing her, just because he could.

“Just thinking about, you know.” He shrugged when they parted. 

“I know.” Her smile was soft, tinged with sadness.

He went in for another kiss. Melinda was hard steel under the softest velvet. She was his partner and his best friend. She was a piece of home away from the team. He loved her, he was grateful that she was here with him. That she was selfless enough to give him that; herself, for how long it took for him to say his last goodbye.

They stumbled towards the bed, not in a hurry but with unwillingness to let each other go long enough to focus on their bearings. He tugged at her towel, Melinda pulled his robe apart. Phil was drowning, drowning in how happy and grateful he was. His chest felt like it would explode from the fullness.

When they hit the bed, the screams started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is really, really important for me. Helps me stay inspired.
> 
> ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Daisy's skin felt too tight for her body. Pins and needles ran up and down her arms, her torso, her legs, her insides. There was a constant pressure behind her eyes, under her throat. Her stomach churned. It was like going through terrigenesis all over again. But not. Like the second time, she knew what to expect, so the blow of the change was softened somewhat. However, this, this was different. It was worsened by Coulson and May leaving. By Fitz and Talbot's deaths. By Coulson's imminent demise. It was also worsened by how intense it felt. Yes – and while it felt weird to think it, it was true – the world was safe because of her. Because of Coulson's choice to give her the tool she ultimately needed to do the right thing.

But the price of it was finally catching up to her. Not only because of Coulson's loss, even if it was still the strongest reason. But also because of the incessant feeling twisting inside of her, down to the marrow of her bones. If she stopped to think about it, the fear of the power she now held would shock her into paralysis, would acquire that strange attractiveness that only truly horrible thoughts have; like when one is driving down a road and wonders what would happen if they threw the car over a cliff. Daisy didn't deserve the moniker given the her, Destroyer of Worlds, simply because no worlds were ever destroyed by her. However, the possibility that before seemed so distant simply because of the plain, physical impossibility of it was now withing reach. Daisy hadn't destroyed the Earth, or any other world for that matter. But now, she _could_. There was enough power swirling inside her veins that she was afraid that, if it burst, it would take everything with it. It was such a frighting thought that it was pushed down as soon as it took form.

Business as usual, self-denial firmly in place, she tried to focus, alongside Jemma, in the quest for the one remaining Fitz. Frozen-months-previously-edition. Daisy couldn't help but think what this meant. This Fitz never strapped her to a table and cut her open against her will. This Fitz was never so broken that he did such a thing. But truthfully, what broke Fitz was a conjunction of tragedies over the years. His father. Ward's murder attempt. The framework. Losing Jemma, again and again. The future. Last, perhaps also least, Daisy's unwillingness to see the big picture. She knew that the push she herself gave was small, tiny, compared to the others. But she couldn't deny her share of responsibility. While this Fitz hadn't yet been pushed that bit too far, his path was still poised towards it.

“Enoch would choose a place without any kind of imaging. He was trying to remain hidden. Maybe we should try a negative search? Compile nearby areas with no government or private equipment in place.” Jemma told Daisy as she was flexing her metaphorical hacking muscles against government and private satellites and space probes.

“I guess that means they are not in Mars. Or the moon.”

“Probably not.” A few clicking sounds against the keyboard.

“I'm done. Easy as cake.” Daisy forced a smile. Her fingers were tingling, she could feel, almost acutely, the atoms of Jemma's body moving near her. She could shake them until Jemma was nothing more than a stain on the floor. Maybe not even that.

Jemma saw right through Daisy's expression. She pushed her to the side and assumed the computer board.

“This will take a little while, Daisy. You look tired.” Daisy opened her mouth to argue. Jemma gave her the look. Daisy sighed, defeated.

“Let me know if you need anything? I will be in my bunk.” Despite the thoughts churning in her head, Daisy took a moment to hold Jemma's shoulder in thankfulness. “You know we will get him back, right?”

Jemma's eyes were warm steel when she turned towards the other woman.

“I know.”

Daisy nodded before walking away. She traveled through the Lighthouse's corridors with ease born from familiarity, observing the bustle of people working around the place and being uniquely thankful for the fact that now that she knew it wouldn't be the last stand of humanity, she could actively like it instead of just tolerate it. It was comforting, knowing that.

On a completely different level, Daisy also felt the movement of things and people around her. She had been capable of doing that, in a way, since she got her powers. But now it was almost like an extra sense. A different dimension invading the edge of her vision at all times. It was jumbled, most of it made no sense, but it was there. The constant white noise slowly driving her out of her mind. Everything is always moving. And now Daisy felt every single motion, every variation and deviation in the quasi-random dance atoms, molecules and matter perform incessantly.

Her usual strategies to shut it out were failing her. Keeping her heartbeat low only made her focus more on the motions her own body makes, and it was such an uncomfortable notion, to feel on a different level as her heart propelled blood through her veins and her stomach literally churned – she must be hungry – and her joints snapped at every movement and weren't nerve impulses electric and therefore kinetic and she must be going completely insane. Daisy remembered seeing once, maybe on a dumb TV program or a magazine article on a waiting room somewhere, that there is a condition in which one is capable of hearing the sounds their own body makes. That could be cool, for five minutes. Maybe ten. But how can she remain sane when she can't focus on anything because every tiny thing inside and out seems to be screaming perpetually?

Daisy was going to her bunk when she saw the door of Coulson's room half open. With no conscious thought she pushed it the rest of the way. Usually, bare rooms look bigger. But without Coulson and his things inside, the fairly sized room looked tiny. His bed had no sheets and the bare bones of the room were all that was left behind. Daisy closed the door behind her and curled up on the empty bed where his familiar scent was still strong.

Everything was finally dulled.

When she woke up, Daisy had the distinct feeling she slept too much. That sort of lazy tiredness and disorientation that comes from missing the point in which she could have waked up rested and well. She had drooled on Coulson's bed... former bed. Her stomach felt like it was digesting itself. She definitely had a headache now. The white noise from before was still there. But, somehow, she felt better.

She half heard half felt someone walking down the corridor outside the room. She sat there on the bed for a moment, trying to rouse herself into something vaguely human, when the steps stopped, almost in front of the door. She yawned long and wide, waiting for whoever it was to knock or open the door and tell her lazy ass to move. When none of that happened, she got up. Frowning, but still largely unworried, she arranged her clothes back in place. Looking at the door again, she felt nothing outside. Now, even someone standing perfectly still was still noticeable if close enough not to be too fuzzed by everything else's noise. There was no one outside the door.

Needing clearer confirmation, Daisy pulled the door open. As expected, there was no one there. She looked left and right, saw somebody walking down the next corridor.

“Hey, Davis, was someone just here?” He slowed and turned towards her, confused.

“I think Agent Simmons asked Agent Lim to get you, since she finished the list of areas we can start searching. Hasn't she talked to you yet? It was a little while ago.” Davis studied Daisy's disheveled appearance. A flash of confusion slid through his face, before being almost immediately exchanged for comprehension and sympathy. “Maybe she just didn't find you in your quarters since, you know...” He motioned towards where Daisy was still holding open the door of Coulson's old room.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Daisy stepped fully out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“Let's go. Agent Simmons isn't a big fan of waiting.” She cleared her throat and tried to untangle her hair with her fingers.

“Who is, really?” Davis smiled. He took a deep breath and years working in this field told Daisy he wanted to say something else. She waited patiently.

“We haven't really had a chance to talk these few days and I just wanted to tell you, uhn... Two things. First, while I support and understand why you gave the lead to Director McKenzie, I just wanted you to know that you weren't that bad as a boss.” Daisy raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged, unapologetic. “And also thank you, for facing Talbot on your own and, well, winning. The world might not know how much of a sacrifice that was, but I do.” He gestured towards the blank metal walls around them. “We all do.”

Daisy's throat was suddenly tight and she had to clear it before speaking.

“You are welcome, I guess… I was just doing my job, really, if I had started doing it earlier maybe the mess we faced wouldn't have been as big, and I would have been a good boss, instead of a 'not that bad one'.” The corridor they were at was just short of the main area where the others were probably working. Davis turned towards her.

“It was more than that. And you've always been good at your job. I would know, I met you before you had it.” They both smiled, but Daisy's was tinted with longing. She was touched by his words and nostalgia gripped at her. She missed the bus.

“Thanks, Davis.” It was all she could bring herself to say. He seemed to understand the sentiment behind it, however. They were standing right outside the double doors leading to the main room, he raised his right hand towards it.

“Shall we?”

The word 'sure' was half-formed inside Daisy's mouth when she noticed something strange. Wisps of dark gray ashes, almost black, rose from the tips of Davis fingers. She watched in transfixed horror as they rapidly spread.

“Your hand?” She wondered aloud, confused. Davis looked at it like he had neither felt nor noticed that his hand was turning into ashes until it was mentioned. Half of his arm was gone by that point.

His gaze came back to hers, terrified.

“I don't know what is happening.”

“Help! Help! Over here!” Daisy yelled, as it spread, it became faster. His arms were gone in 5 seconds. The rest of him took 2.

Just like that, he was gone.

Daisy stayed there, shocked. Mack, Jemma, Piper and two more agents burst out of the main room one second after Davis was completely gone. Daisy turned towards them.

“Daisy!” Mack bellowed.

“Daisy, what happened? Are you okay?” Jemma asked, checking Daisy for injures.

“It was- It was Davis. We were walking here together and he just… He just turned to ashes right now. Disappeared. It didn't take 10 seconds. I-I have no idea why.” She looked at them, bewildered. “He is gone.”

“Daisy...” Jemma started, expression worried and disbelieving. She was interrupted by one of the agents screaming.

Daisy could see the agent's body rapidly deteriorate in front of all of them, until there was only ashes left, floating in the non-existent wind of the base.

The five of them stood there, paralyzed. All of them had honed a fight or flight response that tended towards fighting. But the enemy was invisible, immaterial, untouchable. They could neither fight nor run from something they could not see. 

“What is doing this? Jemma! What is doing this?” Mack demanded. Jemma shook her head, expression as shocked and confused as the others'.

“I have no idea. I-I know of no chemical or mystical substances capable of this. I-I...”

But Jemma stopped talking, because both Piper and the Agent Harris started decomposing as well.

“Jemma, please, do something!” Daisy begged, going towards Piper and holding her like she could keep her from failing apart with her bare hands.

“I don't know what to do!”

There was a small comfort in how fast and painlessly both Agent Piper and Agent Harris were gone. There was no time for goodbyes but there was also no time for the horrid knowledge of what was happening to them set in. Piper had her trademark resolute expression set on her face as it became ash; Harris had been so worried about everyone else he didn't even seem to notice his own fate until it had already caught up to him.

“No...” The rich baritone of Mack's voice rose Daisy from the melancholy she was sinking into, even as the three of them ran towards the screams they could hear. She stopped and forced herself to turn back, to watch as her partner stared at his own hand as it ceased to exist.

“Mack, oh, no.” Jemma sobbed as Mack started to fade into nothingness. Daisy could only watch, helpless.

“Tell Elena I forgive her.” He asked, expression serious.

“No, you will tell her yourself! You have to.” Jemma was crying. The second Mack was fully gone, Elena turned the corner of the corridor they were at.

“Daisy, Jemma! I need help, there are people-”. She got close enough to see them clearly. Daisy and Jemma standing side-by-side alone in the corridor. With one look at Daisy's stricken face and Jemma's wet one, she knew something was terribly wrong.

“Where is Mack? Is he okay?” Elena demanded, face contorting into an expression of such acute pain that Daisy and Jemma wanted to look away.

“I have no idea.” It was like a strangers' voice coming out of Daisy's mouth. "One second he was here, then... I don't know what is happening to them." She didn't know, she didn't. But she had that feeling, the one that followed her most of her life. Death.

Elena's mouth opened to respond, but she was interrupted by Jemma's gasp when metal hit the floor with a loud clunk. Elena's expression changed instantly, she glanced down at the mechanical arms in the floor. Detached, surprised, accepting.

“At least I will be with him.” In a blink, she was gone as well. Jemma picked up the mechanic arms and held them, a physical proof that Elena had been there just a moment before. She curled up around herself against the wall.

Daisy sat beside her. The screaming had stopped completely. She could feel the soft buzz of the metal walls and the murmur of the concrete, but the scratching that she had soon after the serum recognized as 'people' was gone. She touched Jemma's hand, white from clutching the metal. Jemma let it go and clutched at Daisy instead. Daisy breathed in the other woman's scent, almost as familiar as Coulson's. The shaking of the atoms that made up Jemma had been painful before, almost incapacitating. Now, Daisy clung to the jagged noise as if it was a lifeline. They parted, Jemma's expression was blank, there was discoloration around her eyes and mouth. She looked like she was going to be sick.

Then, a horrible thought crossed Daisy's mind. She had no idea what her face was doing, but if she had enough presence of mind to think about it, she would know it was mirroring Jemma's. The most important people weren't there, but they had to be somewhere. _Coulson, May, Fitz_. The names swirled inside her mind, she grasped at them as if they were as flimsy as the ashes on the floor around her. She pushed herself up, stumbling against the weight pressing down on her chest, on her throat. Her hands were shaking as she used them to pull Jemma as well.

"We need to find the others."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't as traumatic to you guys as it was for me. In either case, let me know?


	3. Chapter 3

Jemma and Daisy researched the phenomena. It was everywhere, people were simply disappearing all over the world, or they had been. It seemed to have stopped. The missing persons count was still being made, but chaos reigned all over and billions were gone. World leaders, celebrities, the guy next door… There was no order to the madness, except for illogical randomness.

SHIELD took it hard, harder than the rest of the world, apparently. By the time it was over, only Jemma and Daisy were left in the base. They called the people they knew could, had to, help, but both May and Phil were not picking up. Dread froze Daisy's insides at the thought. She hadn't been this scared in a long time. SHIELD had been the very first solid ground she could stand on during her life and it was gone, again. But she could hear her own worlds. There is no SHIELD without Coulson. If he was still out there, there was hope. She just had to find him.

“Hopefully they will still be at the hotel.” Daisy breathed out, fiddling with the straps of the seat as they flew on the quinjet towards Tahiti.

“Or they could be, you know.” Jemma pressed her lips. She didn't want to believe it too, but she felt the need to bring up the possibility.

“We can't think like that.” It was all she could do to keep it together. It was worse in the air, the emotional turmoil coupled with her new awareness. The jet's movement as it cut the air was making her head pulse with pain.

“I know, I know. But Daisy… you saw what happened. If they are gone, we just won't be able to find them.”

“We are both still here. That means they can be too. They have to.” Jemma didn't argue. Either way, she knew they had to check. Maybe Coulson and May were part of the lucky ones. Or unlucky ones. They who were all left behind in a broken world.

It wasn't long until they reached their destination. Destruction is always striking, but it seemed specially out of place under the hues of the gold and orange sun setting and the sparkling blue of the ocean and the immaculate white of the sand. Daisy was a one woman army with no war to fight as she strode purposefully towards the inn Coulson and May had been at. The windows of the first floor were broken and there was a car half inside where the reception had been. The car was empty, no sign of blood on the driver's seat. An old woman was stuck between the front of the car and a wall. Daisy didn't bother to check her pulse. Jemma did, before lowering her head in resignation and continuing on.

The place was clearly not empty. Daisy could feel more than hear people around, inside the rooms. They weren't doing much, however. Someone had a TV on, even Jemma could pick up on that. A woman was loudly crying by the end of the corridor. A man in a Hawaiian shirt ran by them yelling a name, before turning back and asking Jemma and Daisy if they saw a little boy, about 9, messy blond hair, about this high. They shook their heads, grief heavy in their expression. He thanked them politely before continuing his search.

But mostly, people were just there. One in particular, Daisy could feel down to her bones. She ran, relief and happiness at knowing he was alive moving her. The singular orchestra that is Phil Coulson was one she knew well, knew even before being able to pick it up so accurately. When she opened the door he was sitting on the bed, completely naked, arms resting on his knees. The smile that had been forming on her face melted away. His eyes slid from a point on the floor he had been staring at to hers. Immediately, Daisy knew.

“She is gone.” His voice was rough, it scratched at Daisy's ears like nails on a chalkboard. 

Daisy could hear Jemma gasp behind her, but her focus was solely on Coulson. She crouched to pick up a towel lying on the floor and when she was close enough, wrapped it around him. It was big enough that it gave him a modicum of modesty.

“No.” She said, taking his hands in hers and lowering herself so they were face to face. The deformed skin of his chest was glaring in the low light and Daisy had to focus not to look down.

“She was... we were... And then she was just… Like she had never been here in the first place. In a second.” He looked utterly lost as he stared at Daisy. She knew he was in shock. Hell, she and Jemma were both still in shock.

“No, we will get her back. We will solve this.” She assured him, her voice trembling only minutely.

“How, how can we possibly solve this?” He asked, and there was a mix of emotions on his voice. Anger, hope, exhaustion.

“We and Jemma have been talking.” Daisy glanced back at the other woman, there were tear tracks on her face but she nodded and forced a smile at them both. “This, whatever it was, wasn't natural. It was caused by something, something not-not normal, probably not human. If we can find out what it was, we could find a way to reverse it.”

“You're assuming there is reversing this.” His expression was blank as he looked at her.

“There has to be! Coulson, snap out of it, think with me. Anything powerful enough to do this… You know it wasn't just here? It was everywhere. We are talking billions of people just _gone_. If that thing has this kind of power, then it must have the power to undo it.” She was standing now, hands waving her point across as much as her voice.

It was Jemma who answered.

“But… but Daisy. We, all of this is order. Patterns. Your DNA, your bodily systems and functions, everything. We are made of them, we exist because of them. Second law of thermodynamics; sometimes if chaos, death, comes, we can't undo it. A bomb is powerful enough to kill but not to give life. Even if we find whatever, whoever did this, what if we discover there is no coming back? No undo button. What then?” Jemma took a deep breath as she finished, like saying this took all of her.

To both Daisy and Jemma's surprise, it was Coulson who answered.

“If we can't protect this world, those we love... We will avenge them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going for what happened in IW: only the original team survived. Here, that would mean Phil, May, Daisy, Jemma and Fitz. But the plot had other plans.
> 
> Yeah, I'm sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

Jemma's priority wouldn't change, couldn't change. Daisy and Coulson understood that. So they left her to search for Fitz while they compiled information about the- whatever it was that happened. They needed to name _it_ something, just so referring to _it_ wouldn't be such an excruciating exercise every time. They arrived at 'the incident', which was a reused name for the Battle of New York. But since the Battle of New York wasn't such a fresh wound anymore and could be referred to by what it was, the more recent, much worse tragedy got the dubious honor of being 'The Incident'. Daisy thought it was better than calling it 'the death of everyone she deeply cares about, except for three people'.

Truth was, while they were all appropriately sad about the loss of all the agents – and Deke – the absence of Mack, Elena and May was the truly open, bleeding wound. It didn't help that Coulson couldn't remain standing for more than a few minutes without tiring himself out; needed daily naps and a plethora of medication that left him out of it, and that so, he refused to take. The deadline Jemma had given him loomed over all their heads, a dark cloud that made the air hard to breathe. Daisy became so attuned to the sound, the feel of his heart beating since the few days he had been back that she felt like she could track it even in her sleep. When Jemma wasn't obsessing about Fitz, she was harassing Coulson about taking care of his health. Despite his laser-like focus in the issue at hand, even Phil was careful. Ate well, slept as much as he was supposed to. The only concession he couldn't make were the meds. He needed his mind clear, therefore he dealt with the pain the best way he knew how. He let it wash over him and used it to keep himself focused.

One night, almost a week into what they liked to jokingly refer to as 'midway-apocalypse', Jemma burst into Daisy's room with an urgency never seen before.

“I found him.”

Daisy didn't need to ask who.

Jemma's plan was simple: take the spaceship close enough to contact Enoch. Bring him and Fitz back to Earth. Tell both what happened. Daisy wondered if Jemma would tell Fitz about the wedding he never had, but that she did. She thinks so, Jemma had gotten infinitely better at lying and omitting, so much so that the shy but bubbly nerd she was at heart was barely recognizable, but her connection to Fitz would always be special. She wouldn't lie to him about that.

The only hiccup on the whole trip was when Fitz woke up and, while he babbled and cried to Jemma as she was tightly held in his embrace, Coulson's heart stuttered and stopped. Daisy re-started it with the softest, most careful quake she ever emitted. It felt like she was holding his heart with her bare hands, massaging it back into beating. When he came back, she held him for over five minutes, crying. He held her back, patting her back awkwardly and occasionally running his fingers through her hair.

If Enoch found the sight of those four humans hugging and crying in front of him strange, he didn't mention it.

Later, when Fitz hugged Daisy, she was surprised to find her anger and resentment at him gone. Or, not gone _per se_ , but so small and buried that it was negligible. This was her old, sweet Fitz. And even the one who died… After Talbot, she felt like she understood him better, understood him enough not to hate him anymore, to forgive him. She killed Talbot and it was necessary. What Fitz did to her was different, both because he was her friend and because she was truly a victim. But it was _necessary_. She thought she knew hard choices before, and she did, but now understands them in a way she hadn't before.

When they all got back to Earth, Jemma still hadn't told Fitz about the wedding and Coulson's health was declining rapidly. Daisy found Coulson one afternoon, sitting alone in the medbay with an IV in his arm and dark circles under his eyes. She sat beside him and they stayed there for a few moments, staring at the bleak walls together.

“It's different now.”

She glanced at him, startled that he spoke, a question in her eyes.

“Before… It was hard, yes, I was sad, I didn't want to die. But I was also okay with it. It felt like the time. There were no lose ends.”

Coulson wasn't looking at her and Daisy allowed herself a moment to carefully study his face. He seemed tired, worn. No suit, not even a shaved face. He wasn't a young man when they met but now, for the first time, he looked old.

“Now it feels like all that there is is lose ends.”

It was as if all the vitality that had been sucked out of his body by disease and age and exhaustion was focused on his eyes, on how they burned right through Daisy's when he turned to look at her. She wanted to comfort him, to hold his hand or embrace him and promise that things would look up. But she knew that was not what he needed.

She smiled sadly instead.

“It took the apocalypse for you to let me save you. There has to be an irony there somewhere.”

The intensity rapidly bled out of his eyes at her words and tone, being replaced by the warmth that is just Coulson. He smiled at her, genuine enough that it gave her own smile more life.

“You have always been my hero, Daisy.”

And while it was a joke and they both laughed for the first time in what must have been days, his a roughed chuckle and hers close to snickering, it was also the honest truth. This time, she extended her hand towards his and he took it. His fingers were warm.

“Wouldn't want to stop now.”

She stayed there with him for a few more minutes, talking about nothing in particular, conversation and silence both flowing between them as they almost always had, easily and naturally. But eventually she squeezed his hand, smiled and left. She had work to do. If she could figure out how to save him once, she could do it again. There were a few threads she could pull, the very first one of them being the fact that the serum wasn't lost. It ran thought her veins even as she spoke to Coulson about healing him. FitzSimmons might have an idea about how to help with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not opposed to suggestions or criticism. And I looooveee compliments. Just tell me what you think, pretty much, and I will be happy.
> 
> ;)
> 
> Also, to the Philinda fans around, I'm sorry, but I don't think this story will go that way. The tags have been fixed and I apologize again for that.


	5. Chapter 5

Coulson deteriorated at a rapid pace. Each day, a bit of him seemed to leave, as if he was crumbling into ashes at a much slower pace than the others. By day 12 after the end of the world, he could barely stand without support, only for a few minutes at a time; was able to stay awake only about 5 hours a day before failing into exhausted but fitful slumber; hurt with every breath and had his heart fail him thrice in a period of 5 days. Each time, he was brought back. Each time, it hurt more, it took longer, he came back a bit less Coulson.

Turned out, after Daisy spent days subjecting herself to as many tests as it took, that the solution was simple, albeit laborious and time consuming. The serum was in fact still in her veins, less and less each day as her body consumed it and turned it into a part of her. But nonetheless, there was time, and Daisy let Jemma take as much from her veins as she needed to.

The familiarity of the situation wasn't lost on her, flashbacks to Hive and how fulfilled and _right_ she felt as he dried her from the inside out and used her to birth a new race, the perfect concrete representation of the deformity that was him, ran through her mind as she felt reality dull as more and more was taken. But, if nothing else, the stark ache washing over her was the surest guarantee of the free will involved on her decision to do it. The difference could not be ignored. Daisy could only wish to ever feel again the completeness she did as Hive slowly killed her. However this, as painful and excruciating as it was, felt _better_. She was saving Coulson, no matter in such horrible context, and that's all she had wanted to do since she discovered he needed saving.

Once the blood was taken, Jemma and Fitz worked incessantly for days trying to purify it, separate as much as possible the serum and the GH-325 from what was purely Daisy's. Though, at that point, it was fair to wonder if there could be a line anymore. Some of Daisy would remain into whatever substance resulted, and there was no way to change that. The harmful and unbalancing elements, however, were filtered out.

It was right after Coulson's fourth heart attack that the new serum was ready. It was red as blood, neither the gold-orange of the centipede serum nor the eery blue of the Kree blood, but dark scarlet exactly as it looked as it was taken from Daisy. The procedure was, similarly, a blood transfusion. Jemma had to take a bit from Coulson before hand, both for future comparison value and so his blood pressure wouldn't change dramatically as the serum was administered.

There was no grand change, no glowing, sudden super strength or immediate improvement. It took days and all 6 pints of blood before something happened. But once it did, it was like a chain reaction. After Coulson noticed he could inhale with a little less pain, the rotten flesh on his chest seemed to shrink, he managed to remain awake longer, slowly but surely his mind came back to him. He was sharp and aware again before he was well enough to walk 10 feet, but he was restless, so he tried anyway.

Daisy found him as he precariously supported himself on a corner wall. With his improvement, she, Jemma and Fitz had finally given him some room to breathe as they compiled info about the incident. He thought walking around a few corridors would present no challenge, he was wrong, but the worst part was being caught at it.

She simply stopped beside him and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

“Thought I could make it to the kitchen. Get myself some Captain Crunch.”

“You could have asked me for it. Or at least to go with you.”

He pressed his lips together, looking at her. Daisy rolled her eyes.

“I know I've been a bit of a mother hen. But it was necessary.”

“Necessary, yes. Understood and appreciated, also. But it did get a bit old, after a while.” He smiled softly at her.

“You're one to talk. Every injury I've ever gotten, as soon as it was safe to, you've fussed over. Even when I was just a consultant.” Daisy smiled back, amused and nostalgic.

“You were never 'just' anything to me, Daisy.” They glanced at one another, eyes meeting, a moment of mutual affection and understanding. Then Coulson took a deep breath and pushed himself off the wall, raising his right arm towards her. Daisy grabbed it and pulled it over her shoulder, supporting a good amount of his weight and helping his balance.

There was no Captain Crunch left, but they made do with Froot Loops.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Coulson was deemed at “peak physical state” by Jemma. And it was not even “for a man of his age”, but “for a man at around 35 to 40 years”. Coulson didn't lose time wondering if he should be offended by that. In truth, he didn't look any younger, all the scars and bumps that littered his body were the same. He still had a bit of a belly. But he did feel stronger than he had in a long, long time. Stronger than even before all the madness that followed his death happened. And everyday, it got a bit better. He felt strong and sure and his mind was crisp clear.

They all agreed it was time to leave the Lighthouse behind and start facing the real world. Or what was left of it. One day before their planned departure, there was still no real game plan. At least, not until Fitz yelled at all of them from the command center right after dinner. He sat there and turned the television volume up with the remote control as they arrived and arranged themselves around the space. On the news, Shuri, the newly crowded Queen of Wakanda, spoke. She looked too young to be in that position, to have lost her father and brother and to have to carry a mantle of such weight. She wore black and her face was painted with white dots that formed patters around her eyes, on her forehead and chin. It made her look fierce, it contrasted with the grief on her eyes.

“ _I apologize for the time it took for a formal pronunciation to be made. But it was necessary time, the death of my brother has been as keenly felt by me as the loss of so many have been for all of us. Time was taken to honor those that left and to mourn, as well as to arrange required affairs._

 _Now, however, I direct my words to all of you. I believe all of us, who have had to feel the pain of loss in such a sudden way, deserve to know why. As has been publicized on many news outlets, a battle occurred in Wakanda in the day of the incident. What has not been made public, however, is that a being that called himself Thanos was responsible for it. He sent a legion of beastly creatures, as well as soldiers he called his children, to retrieve an object that was located within our borders. Such object was a stone, a relic as old as the birth of the universe and just as powerful. We did our very best to keep it safe. We failed._ ”

She took a deep breath. There were dozens of reporters and lights all around her, but no one made a sound. All waited, as if suspended over a void, for her to speak again.

“ _We employed all our forces to the fight, my own brother included. I attempted to take measures to destroy the stone, since its power could not be allowed in the hands of Thanos. However, the stone was attached to someone, it was part of a being whose life should be valued and could not continue if the stone wasn't properly taken. I, and those who worked by me, did all we could to spare that life, to separate Vision from the stone. Again, we failed... I failed. There wasn't enough time, and Thanos came._

_With great grief, Wanda Maximoff did what was necessary and destroyed the stone at the cost of her team mate's life. She made the hardest choice one could be asked to do, a loved one or the safety of the world, and she was strong enough to make it. Unfortunately, that stone was not the only one of its kind. There are six in total, each of them capable of controlling one aspect of the universe. Thanos had already acquired all but the one in our possession by the time he came. With a flick of his fingers time was reversed until the stone was whole again. And so he took it, murdering Vision in the process._

_After, we all know what happened. It took only a snap of his fingers and half of all beings in the universe were gone. It's a tragedy beyond any of the darkest nightmares. And the one responsible for it is still out there. Thanos remains free, in possession of a power so great that it seems like a hopeless endeavor to try and challenge him. To make sure he responds for what he has done and that nothing of the like ever happens again._ ”

She stops for a moment, squares her shoulders.

“ _But I am here today to announce that we are trying. We are doing all possible to find out where he is and if there is a way to strip him of that power. And following my brother's leadership..._ ” Her voice cracks at the word 'brother' “ _I am keeping Wakanda open to the world and making sure any resources we can offer, if needed, will be at disposal to help in this quest and also in the stabilization of other struggling nations. Humanitarian efforts have already been active, and they shall remain so._

 _On another, but similar, subject, I am also here to announce that The Avengers have been reinstated as an independent team responsible for protecting and, if necessary, avenging, this world. That will be all._ ”

The screen explodes in chaos at her last pronouncement. They all stand there for a few moments, staring at it, as Shuri rapidly leaves the press conference to the sound of cameras snapping and shouted questions.

The silence is broken by Coulson.

“I guess we are going to Wakanda.”


End file.
